Phantoms and Cherubs
by SerialStoryLover
Summary: AU "Amen". Mackenzie-centric. You know me well enough by now to be able to at least guess at what this may entail…or do you? Mwahahahaha!


_**Phantoms and Cherubs**_

_**Been away but I've been busy! :p Another wee AU one-shot. I know this would probably never ever happen, but I just kind of wanted it to. I have to say that I never quite understood why Aaron gave Will this line – I always thought it should have come from Mackenzie…for reasons you are about to discover. Set during "Amen".**_

_**Anyways, Will/Mac as per. A bit darker this time though. Plus a little bit of Mac/Jim friendshippy cuteness.**_

* * *

"What the hell was Elliot thinking?" Charlie sounded uncharacteristically disturbed by the news of Elliot's attack. He was usually the calmest person in the room, the last to lose his nerve. Everyone knew how serious and protective he was of his reporters and news teams but it was rare for his voice to crack.

No one seemed to know what to say until Mac spoke in a very strange voice. "He was thinking 'get the story'."

She did not notice everyone looking around at her. To her team around her it appeared as though she was staring so hard at her pen that she was trying to make it move through power of the mind, but in truth she was completely in a world of her own; images playing before her eyes that she had locked away for nearly two years. She knew exactly what it was to want the story so badly that your determination and focus numbed the sense in your brain that usually detected danger. In fact, Elliot's scenario was eerily similar to her own experience – a protest, an unseen attacker…

She was jolted back to reality by a hand on her shoulder. Her head jerked up to meet Charlie's understanding gaze. He nodded his head slightly, silently asking if she was okay. She forced a smile onto her face as she brought her hand up to fiddle with her necklace; a nervous habit she had had ever since it had been given to her. Charlie gave her a hard look before he smiled back and left the room.

Turning around she caught Jim's eye, a knowing look lurking there, and she shook her head by a fraction to let him know that now was not the time for questions.

"Alright then! Since Will's going to need to go over and catch up with the ten o'clock guys, we had better get cracking. She grabbed her marker pen and started going back through the rundown to make sure that everyone was happy, ignoring the confused (and in some cases concerned) looks she was getting from her staffers – absolutely not making eye contact with Will.

When the meeting finished Mac was first out the door, and made a beeline for her office before anyone could come after her. She knew that Jim would hold off as many people as he could, but she was equally as sure that if Will was determined to see her then Jim would be no match for him.

As soon as she was in, she allowed the controlled breathing that she had been practising to become more shallow and erratic and take over her nervous system as she placed a hand gently over the right side of her abdomen, easing herself down into her chair as she dimmed the lights. It was all too much.

As she sank into her chair she stopped fighting and let the memories wash over her. Though she knew her scar had long since healed, she could feel the pain afresh; the stabbing, blinding pain as the knife tore through her body by a mysterious figure behind her; the way it twisted inside her as the crowd jostled them, and the painful extraction as her attacker withdrew the blade and roughly shoved her to the ground, trampled by the ignorant legs of the distracted, angry mob around her.

She could no longer tell where her memory ended and reality began; she was consumed by the realism of this flash memory. Some detached part of her consciousness was aware of the tears running down her cheeks, how her hand was scrunched around and pressing down on the ghost of an old wound, how her body was shaking from a haunting pain which lived only in her mind.

After a few moments, whilst the memory moved on to the vague and shadowy aftermath – Jim cradling her head and yelling inaudible reassurances to her over the roar of the riot and being carried roughly to the edge of the crowd by unseen arms – it vaguely registered the gentle hand which covered her own and the soft voice which accompanied it, "Mac? Mac? Mackenzie?"

Mackenzie frowned, still locked in her memory – she had never been able to hear Jim calling her before now. Or at least she could not remember it. She wondered if this was maybe some new part of the memory that the trauma had somehow blocked before now; the Doctors had said that could happen. But suddenly it wasn't making sense! The memory was continuing – she could see Jim calling her name, but now she could feel a hand on her face that was not part of the memory! What was going on?

And then she heard the voice more clearly…and it wasn't Jim. Her eyes snapped open, though everything was blurry through her tears; her eyes were stinging.

Will was sitting on the desk in front of her, his left hand over hers, and her right cupping her face, a finger stroking it soothingly. She was gasping, as though she had just run a mile, and as she blinked her tears away she finally caught the horrified look on Will's face. She gulped as she realised that she was safe, and in ACN, in America; far, far away from the horrors of that day. A second wave of shock hit her and her eyes filled once more with tears; once more breathing became a difficulty.

Will quickly cottoned on to her reactions and swiftly pulled her into him, rubbing gentle circles on her back to calm her down and telling her that she was okay, that nothing could harm her here.

Mac pressed herself into his shirt, letting the scent of him, the smell of his aftershave, and just the warm, familiar feel of him wash over her. Will's arms had always been the safest place in the world to her. The day she had been stabbed, all she had wanted was to have him next to her; to be able to touch and hold him – to know that she wouldn't die alone. Because that had been what scared her most: dying in a distant country without Will there; without making it up to him, or even just seeing him one more time. Oh how she had longed for this warmth on that day!

"Mac?" Will asked her in a cracked, even slightly scared voice. She couldn't answer; her throat seemed to be stuck together somewhere at the middle of her neck, so she simply tightened her arms around his waist and nuzzled her face further into his shirt. All she could see was a warm, comforting darkness; but she felt Will's grip tighten around her, his face press into her hair from somewhere above her. The hand that had been at her cheek was now holding the back of her neck, gently massaging the muscles at the base of her hairline.

As the minutes passed by her breathing finally slowed and her eyes dried. Will's embrace enveloped her and she could happily have stayed that way for as long as was possible; but soon after she had calmed down, Will gently pushed her back so that he could look at her tear-stained, mascara covered face. She suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed, and she had to bite her lip to stop it trembling again. Will noticed this however, and he leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on her hairline, before leaning his forehead against hers. She gratefully leaned against him, thankful that he was being so careful with her. Opening her eyes she saw the shit-scared look on Will's face, and felt terrible for frightening him like this.

"Mac? What is going on?" He asked quietly, eyes wide and searching as his hand once more cupped her cheek. Her eyes closed, leaning into his touch as she battled with herself over whether to explain to him or not. It occurred to her that she may not have a choice in the matter. She tried to figure out the words in her head, but before she could she felt Will's other hand – still resting on her own over her stomach – move and slip to the line where her shirt tucked into her skirt.

Her eyes quickly snapped anxiously up to his, but he only looked back at her reassuringly, asking her permission as his fingers dug into the waistband. After a few seconds she nodded, and he gently pulled the shirt out, lifting it to just below her bra. She didn't want to look at the mark, but she didn't need to. As she watched Will's face change expression as he took in the scar she saw her own emotions from that day play out like an old movie. He did not look at her, but dragged a lone finger along the line where the surgeon had closed the wound, and she let her head fall back a little, closing her eyes so that she wouldn't be tempted to look. This was not how she had imagined him touching her body again.

"Oh, Mac." He whispered, realisation of what had happened to her, and why she had behaved that way tonight finally slapping him in the face.

"It's okay." She said it in a hollow voice, almost automatically. Although she knew there was no way on earth that he would believe her – the incredulous expression which appeared on his face only confirmed this – it was part of the code embedded in her brain that she had to protect Will, to reassure him, comfort him.

"This is _not_ okay." Their eyes locked and she didn't know how to respond. She hadn't heard that tone in his voice for so long; the low, passionate tone that said he would he would do anything for her, anything to protect her – the tone that said he loved her. His gaze was so intense that she had to look away, and so she looked down.

Will's hand was still resting over her scar, and she frowned. It just looked wrong. The last time his hand had been there – over that part of her bare flesh – there had been no mark unless it there was a temporary one which had been made by Will himself. She took his hand in her own and moved it off of her, instantly missing his touch, but also glad that her shirt now slid back down over her body to cover that mark. It was strange how everyday she looked at it in the mirror and she had become so used to it that it no longer bothered her, and yet all it had taken was for some small reminder and she had been pulled right back to square one and the memories were still flashing sporadically behind her eyes if she blinked them shut for more than a few seconds.

She had become lost in her thoughts once more, and Will had to squeeze the hand which was holding his to get her attention again. She quickly looked up at him, and decided that this had gone on long enough. More than anything she just wanted to go home – but they still had a show to do.

Shaking her head as if trying to shake the memories out, and sniffing, sitting up straight, she tried to clear her throat, sounding more business-like. She dropped his hand, standing up and tucking her shirt in. But his hands stopped her. She sighed wearily,

"Will –" But to her complete surprise he finished tucking it in for her; his hands gentle, and moving over her scar almost as though he were caressing it. She looked at him in slight wonder, and when he met her gaze again he looked sad. His hands remained at her waist and he pulled her gently towards him.

"Promise me you'll tell me about it one day." He said softly. She shook her head.

"I can't."

"You used to be able to tell me anything, Mac."

She knew he didn't mean it that way but it was like another slap around the face as he reminded her once more of what she had done. She looked up wanting to just melt into the ground; this meant that she only heard the hiss he emitted as he realised the effect of his words, felt the weight of his head as it fell to her shoulder. But she did not resist when he pulled into him for a proper hug.

She didn't think that either of them knew how long they stood there. She had no idea what was going through his head, but somehow, miraculously, her own mind had gone blissfully blank. She could no longer see the third worst day of her life behind her eyelids. And she knew why. The reason was currently surrounding her; its arms wrapped around her body, its head curled into her neck, and its lips resting perilously close to her pulse point. She knew she had to leave. No matter how much it seemed to be helping her, this was not fair on either of them.

Mac gently extracted herself, determinately not looking at the hurt look on Will's face. She turned away towards the door, glancing in the mirror to wipe the tears and make up from her face. Looking herself in the eye she bargained with herself that she could last the next two hours.

As she walked out into the bullpen, she could tell that loads of people were looking at her; she might have cleared her face of make-up, but the red, puffy eyes were clearly noticeable. And then it occurred to her. She diverted course to Jim's desk where he was talking quietly with Maggie, and halted, looking expectantly at him. He looked up at her slightly guiltily. Maggie took the hint immediately and left, with Jim standing up and gently putting a hand at the small of her back, leading her away from the curious eyes towards the elevators.

As soon as they stopped he looked apprehensively at her – unable to read her face. But after a moment she managed a small smile. Her arms were wrapped defensively around her torso and she was very tense and uptight…but she did manage a small smile.

"Thanks." She said quietly. He let out a small sigh of relief, smiling back, at least for a moment.

"Yeah, well…his name was the one you were calling for that day. I didn't know whether you would be angry or not." She grinned mischievously.

"Oh there was definitely a moment when I wanted to hit you for it…but it did help. So I owe you…again."

He brushed it off, shaking his head. "Nah. There aren't many EPs who would take care of their producers after they got shot in the ass, so really I was just returning a favour."

She punched his shoulder gently and they both let out a small laugh, before Jim pulled her into a tight hug. "It's okay you know; it'll go away again."

She nodded into his shoulder. "I know. It was just…it hadn't happened for a while. It was just overwhelming."

He pulled back, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze. "Yeah" He smiled comfortingly, understanding written all over his face.

* * *

Two hours later, they were both standing in the control room, Mackenzie beadily watching every move Will made as the broadcast went out. As usual, he was the picture of professionalism.

Thankfully, they had barely spoken since the episode in her office – he seemed to be respecting the barriers that she had put in place, and had not mentioned it again. But he had made his presence known in other ways. He stood just that little bit closer so that their elbows brushed, he was far more proactive than usual in getting the broadcast up and running; and then when Wade had called Mac's blackberry when she wasn't in the room, and he had answered the phone, essentially told Wade to fuck off and stop calling Mackenzie at work – they had a show to do! – and hid her phone under her folder so that she didn't have to see his incoming text messages.

Finally he had worked everyone harder than usual, ensuring that everyone was constantly busy so that Mac had even more things to keep track of. Normally if he had done this she would have been exceedingly pissed off at him, but tonight she couldn't have been more grateful. She had not had time to stop and think for two whole hours…and it had been blissful.

She felt undeserving. She knew that their relationship had been growing and improving for a few months now, but after the comment earlier, and everything going on with Wade and the congress debacle, she was confused, because she knew she was not forgiven; yet she also knew that Will was falling for her again. And she did not feel she deserved it.

"Wade's here. He wants to speak to you. Says you're not answering his texts or calls and that he's not leaving 'til he sees you."

She was fuming inside. Did the man now know that they were in the middle of a show? She looked disdainfully at Jim. "Tell him to wait on the terrace."

"It's ten degrees outside."

Mac gave a little nod of her head and turned, without comment, back to the screens. She could hear that Jim hadn't moved behind her. A second later he was at her back.

"You deserved a lot better." He said firmly, looking at her with a quiet fierceness. She choked up a little at his loyalty.

"I deserved what I got." She managed, looking away from Will's face at the screen and down at her notes. Jim did not reply, simply stood by her side for a moment before going back to find Wade.

Once he was gone she breathed out, beginning to mentally prepare herself for what she would say to him. How much did she want to save this relationship…if at all?

* * *

Twenty minutes later she was hesitating at the corner which led out to the terrace. She knew what she wanted to say, but whether she should or not was another thing. Ironically, it had always been her fear of commitment which had screwed up her relationships; now it was the fear of _not_ being in one which was causing her mental meltdown.

Despite how guilty she felt about Will's behaviour towards her, she was slightly hurt that he had dashed past her without so much as a glance at the end of the broadcast. Of course, she had suspicions about why he had run off, but she wasn't entirely certain that she wanted them to be proved right; although she did have to admit that if they did turn out to be correct, then she would be pleased.

Right, that decided it. She knew what she had to say to Wade.

* * *

It went a lot faster than she had anticipated. What a wanker! He seriously, actually openly admitted to using her?! What a complete asshole! Mac couldn't believe that she had lain in bed with that man, cooked meals with him, made love to him, all the while not knowing that he knew that she was still in love with Will, and so had just decided to get as much as he could out of her!

She stopped in her tracks, leaning on the wall to catch her breath – she had been walking very fast. She replayed that last part of her mental monologue again.

All the while knowing that he knew she was still in love with Will…

She surprised herself. Part of her had definitely known that she still loved him, but she had to accept the flaw in her argument…if she was knowingly still in love with Will (which she was), then did she really have any right to the moral high ground here? Had she just gone and fucked up another relationship because she was torn between two guys?

The part of her heart which had "Will" carved into it in block capitals shouted that she couldn't help being in love with Will; but another part of her which came from her head argued that that was no excuse for putting Wade through it. Even if he was a scheming Weasel? He might not have been a scheming Weasel if you had liked him as much as he likes you. But do we _know_ he actually likes me? If he had known about Will all along, maybe I was just a tool for him?

And so the debate went on in her head, and she banged it against the wall effectively telling herself to shut up. Wow, she really was losing it…

"Mac?"

She jerked around to find Sloan looking at her with an extremely concerned expression on her face. She tried to put her mask back on, but found that right now she simply did not have the energy.

Sloan walked over to her and put an arm around her, trying to catch her eye as Mackenzie leant back against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment.

"You've been acting so weird all day. What's up?"

She knew that Sloan was only trying to help, but she didn't want to run through it all. She could hardly believe herself that so much had happened in one day. The TMI story, Wade's real intentions, Elliot, Khalid, and then the memory…

"Why were you looking for me?" She opened her eyes to find Sloan staring at her with a slightly offended expression. Mackenzie tried to look apologetic, leaning on Sloan and starting to walk them back to the bullpen. Realising that her boss was in one of those obstinate moods, Sloan dropped it; and smiled, because hopefully this would cheer her friend up.

"Well…we thought you would like to know that Khalid's back!"

* * *

Striding over across the bullpen and ushering everyone over to form a line, Mac couldn't help the smile that managed to cross her face as she pushed open Will's door. He didn't look surprised to see her, if anything he looked like he had been expecting this.

"And where have you been?"

"I had an errand to run?"

"What kind of errand?"

"I had to get some gum. Look, got it!" She crossed her arms and tried to look at him disapprovingly. He just stared back at her innocently; but she knew him too well. She could always tell when he was lying.

"Look Billy, if I hear you gave money to a journalist to protect me, I will beat you senseless! And you know I can do it because I'm crafty!" She wasn't really serious – this was her way of letting him know that she appreciated what he had done, but would never admit to doing.

"I know."

"Good. I heard Khalid's home. Strange, because the insurance company wouldn't let us touch any ransom money."

"Strange." Her heart melted – why did he have to be so goddam modest. Well, this time she wasn't going to let him get away with it. She was going to make sure that everyone knew what an amazing man Will McAvoy was – and what a complete fucking idiot she had been to throw him away.

"The insurance company didn't pay anything! You did!" She stared at him fiercely, as though daring him to deny it. It was an odd mixture of pride and exasperation, but his eyes softened.

"He was one of our guys." He replied quietly, gazing back at her with that look that she had missed all these years, when it was just the two of them, alone.

"Yeah." It was moments like these when she knew she was most in love with him; when the feeling completely overpowered her and blew her senses. She was so excited that she was going to get to repay the favour. "Speaking of which…"

For the next few minutes, Mac couldn't stop beaming. She had finally done something right. The look he gave her as Maggie left the office, as he realised that she had been the one to organise it all...

When he turned back to her with a look crossed between wonder and adoration, she knew for certain that whatever doubts she had had about what she had said to Wade were stupid. She loved this man, and when he asked "You did this?", she knew that some part of him loved her too. And that was enough for now.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

For the third time that day, Will wrapped his arms around her and held her close. And this time there was no horrific memory getting in the way, no stupid comment or arsehole of a boyfriend; it as just Mackenzie and Will, and neither of them cared that the entire staff could see them.

As they watched the others file into Will's office to deposit their "shirts" on his desk, Mac snuggled in as close as she thought she would get away with, surrounded by her employees and without causing Will to run a mile. To her pleasurable surprise, he accepted it, pulling her closer. She rested her head against his chest, somehow knowing what he wanted. She took a breath.

"I was stabbed in Islamabad." She said quietly, so that only Will would hear her. His hold on her tightened.

"I know. I made Jim tell me." She managed a small laugh. Poor Jim – she really hadn't given him any clue about what he was in for when he followed her here. She looked up to find Will staring down at her, the sad expression back on his face.

"I wish you'd told me." She frowned.

"Do you?"

"Of course!" He protested, turning slightly so that she could see his whole face. She suddenly felt a little guilty about what she was about to say; but she pushed it away because as much as she knew she was the culprit behind their relationship issues, she also knew that she shouldn't take all the blame for this particular part.

"You didn't answer the first fifty emails, so I didn't send you one after the – after I got stabbed." She winced slightly, knowing how harsh that had sounded. She looked up again just in time to see Will close his eyes, regret etched on to his face.

When he opened them again, she offered a brief sad smile, which caused him to pull her into him again; and she thought – or maybe imagined – that he pressed a light kiss to her hair.

"Wow. Four hugs in one day. We should really have a toast or something." She joked. She could feel the rumble in his chest and the smile against her hair which meant he had laughed. She pulled back again, and like earlier, gently released herself from his embrace, sitting back on the desk next to them and smiled up at him.

His eyes twinkled for a moment. "We should."

She was unsure how much to read into that, so she just kept smiling. Will did not, however, and instead reached out to gently squeeze her arm, just at her elbow.

"Mackenzie, I'm sorry. Truly sorry that I never – Jim said you asked for me." He looked timidly at her, and she could tell that he was feeling vulnerable whenever he spoke about 'them'. She smiled sadly again.

"Who else would I have asked for?" She replied simply. Will sighed and looked down at his feet. She knew exactly how he felt: confused about what he should be feeling and for what reasons. Neither of them knew quite where to take the conversation now.

"Well…thank you for telling me. I'm glad you did." His eyes softened and she realised that he was trying to make up for his slip earlier. She hesitated for a second, and then swiftly reached up to kiss him on the cheek, before speaking quietly into his ear.

"Thank you for being there when I needed you."

Before anyone spotted them, she briefly slipped her hand into his and gave it a quick squeeze, then moved away in the direction of her office. If it were any day other than Valentine's Day then she would be out to the bar to get drunk with Sloan, but since it was – after the hellish day she had been through – she quickly decided that a very hot bath, a couple of glasses of wine before dressing gown and an old movie would be a far more appropriate remedy. She didn't want to push things any further with Will tonight. There was a knock at her door.

"Come in." Jim popped his head round the door, apparently checking it was empty before sidling in and walking up to her desk. She looked at him questioningly, but he just shrugged.

"Uh – I wanted to ask…are you going to be okay? On your own tonight I mean? It's just that after –"

She smiled warmly at him. If she was twenty years younger and she had never met Will she would have fought any other women to the floor for a man like Jim; she should really give Maggie a push.

"Jim, I'll be fine." She reassured him, pulling her jacket on and picking up her bag in one hand.

"You seem better." He agreed, trying to keep the innocent look on his face. She raised an eyebrow at him in mock outrage and he cracked a smile, shrugging again. Rolling her eyes, Mac walked around the desk and gave him a brief hug, kissing him on the cheek.

"Don't you worry about me. You go and take that girl, who's patiently waited for hours, to dinner and have a good night; I'll be fine." He nodded, smiling.

"See you tomorrow then."

"See you tomorrow." She winked at him and headed out the door. It baffled her that she hadn't felt this happy in a long time – yet most of the stuff that had happened today had been the sort of stuff that kept her up at night with bad dreams. She grinned to herself as she reached the elevators and realised that it had all been Will and Jim: her men. She pressed the button, thinking fondly of the two of them.

"It's nice to see that smile back on your face." Charlie's voice came from behind her. She twisted around to find him wrapped in a tweed coat with his briefcase and a scarf; he was smiling happily at her, the old gleam back in his eyes. Scratch that. Will, Jim and Charlie: her three musketeers! "You look like you could use a drink though!"

She grinned ruefully. "Oh there is a lovely chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc in my fridge practically begging to be opened." The elevator pinged and they stepped inside. Charlie looked affronted.

"Nonsense! A beautiful young woman like you going home alone to drink wine on Valentine's Day? I'll not hear of it!" She looked, amused, at his stout expression and the twinkle in his eye.

"Are you asking me out on a date, Mr Skinner?" She teased him. He smiled back.

"When you get to my age you start running out of chances to ask women on dates."

"Charlie!" She reprimanded gently. He winked at her.

"If you'll have me. And only if that idiot up there didn't get to you first."

"No such luck I'm afraid; I'm all yours." She smiled back at him, getting a little kick out of the look of surprise on his face as he realised what she had finally admitted. Then he smiled again.

"His loss, my gain." She smiled, and then realised something.

"How did you know I wasn't going out with Wade?" Charlie smiled at her mysteriously, and then laughed at himself.

"Mac, the only people who know you better than I do are Will and Jim. There was no way you'd stay with a guy who treated you like that!" He looked her over, concern crossing his face before he leaned in conspiratorially. "I hope you gave him a good send off?"

She grinned. "No fear. You'd be proud."

"That's my girl!" The elevator doors opened to reveal the lobby and the snowfall visible through the glass walls of the ACN building, and Charlie led her out, arm around her shoulders.

"Now then, where to m'lady?"

**[The End]**

* * *

_**It upsets me that my spellchecker doesn't take "Mwahahahaha" as a real word :(**_

_**So I think there are a few plot holes. If I'd had YouTube I could have referenced it all word-for-word, but Iit is supposed to be AU so my OCD for Newsroom canon will have to whine in a dark corner for now :p Hope you enjoyed!**_

_**NB: first worst day of her life: the day she confessed. The second: the first day she slept with Brian. At least that's what I think she would say.**_


End file.
